


This Human Practice of Couchsurfing

by liquidCitrus



Category: Homestuck, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Crossover, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gender-Neutral Frisk, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance, Post-Game(s), spoilers for all endings of Undertale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-09
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-30 21:03:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5179553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liquidCitrus/pseuds/liquidCitrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Dave Strider double-checks the address written on the scrap of paper in his hand. This is probably the right house. Probably. "I've been talking with him over the Internet. He said that he'd be quite willing to show a dude around 'New New Home'? And talk about monster society? And offer me... spaghetti...?"</em>
</p><p>In which Dave Strider is invited to visit the monsters' recently established surfaceside village by Papyrus, Undyne gets a pair of sunglasses, and Frisk pays a midnight visit.</p><p>Rated T for swearing. Well, Dave swearing, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Human Practice of Couchsurfing

**Author's Note:**

> This makes use of the ol' Homestuck fandom standby, the "postgame AU", in which the kids and trolls somehow all make it out of Sburb but we're not really sure how and they're not exactly telling. It's also post-Undertale-pacifist-ending. Furthermore, since I don't like the stories where the HS kids have to hide that they were in Sburb at all, this world is already weird enough that they don't need to.
> 
> (The HS trolls mostly settled in Australia. I mean, in Australia the wildlife is already all trying to kill you and the ozone hole means the sun burns you; they would feel right at home. They have a Mother Grub, and a film studio.)
> 
> The first two sections are Dave Being Dave; the last section is sad ex-time-travelers.

The person who answers the doorbell is a grinning skeleton in a blue hoodie.

The doorbell-ringer looks him up and down. "I'm looking for... Papyrus?"

"What'd he do this time?" asks the skeleton.

Dave Strider double-checks the address written on the scrap of paper in his hand. This is probably the right house. Probably. "I've been talking with him over the Internet. He said that he'd be quite willing to show a dude around 'New New Home'? And talk about monster society? And offer me... spaghetti...?"

"One moment." The skeleton at the door closes it right back in his face, and a moment later, Dave can hear yells of "I'm coming, I'm coming!"

Finally, Papyrus opens the door. "That was my brother. Sans. Come in, come in. I have read about this human practice of couchsurfing and prepared the couch appropriately."

Dave Strider follows Papyrus' beckoning. "Does it have sweet waves and palm trees?"

Papyrus pauses mid-pillow-plump. "Do human couchsurfers usually need sweet waves and palm trees? Goodness, I hope I haven't done anything wrong."

Dave sees the look of earnestness on Papyrus' face and decides to turn the irony down a few notches. "No, this is fine."

"Oh! So you are making a joke, about the other kind of surfing. The one that it needs to be summer to do."

Dave nods, fractionally, and puts down his bag. It's like John used to be, back when he was barely ten years old and about as genre-savvy as a guy wearing a red shirt. "Exactly. So, what _is_ there to do around here...?"

"I want you to meet all my friends! I hope you will get along with Undyne. And Frisk. And Alphys! And my brother Sans!"

"The other skeleton's your brother...?" Dave successfully resists the urge to ask about monster reproduction. The spiels on troll reproduction were bad enough. "Well, I can see the family resemblance."

"He is the best brother. Even if he's lazy sometimes. Anyway, I just called Undyne and told her we were coming! I think you'll like her."

\----

Undyne looks a bit like the seatrolls did. Dave's almost cheered by the resemblance.

"So," says Dave to Undyne and Papyrus, "what do you do around here for fun?"

"We spar," says Undyne, "and I teach him to cook sometimes. And Alphys and I watch anime."

"Anime, huh," says Dave, pensively. "Let's start with the sparring. Weapon of choice?"

Undyne reaches out, summons a spear, and plants it into the ground. "My spear," she booms, "will pierce the heavens!"

Dave quirks an eyebrow.

"You're unimpressed? Unimpressed with _me_? Well, let's see what you've got!" And Undyne seizes the spear up and throws it at Dave.

Dave's eyebrow returns to place as he dodges, with barely a flicker of movement. "Really. And you were the captain of the Royal Guard, Papyrus says."

"You think you can get away with dodging. Cute. Let's see how you do when you have to face me head-on!" And then Undyne's flashing her spear _through_ Dave, and Dave's rooted to the ground, and he's got no choice but to draw his half-sword and start parrying as Undyne throws more spears.

"That's a nice schtick," allows Dave. "But it's exactly the same one as the basilisks had."

Undyne responds with more spears, flashing from all directions. Spears that speed up as they head towards Dave. And finally spears that look like they're heading at him from one direction, but flip around at the last moment and approach from the other.

It's one of these last ones that finally manages to catch Dave unawares, and he grimaces as it flickers out of existence after having drawn blood across his side. "Touché."

"So, punk," says Undyne, swiping through Dave's soul again to free him, "ready to admit defeat?"

"Hardly," says Dave, and then he's dodging and flashstepping through Undyne's spears, cleaving them in two with his half-sword.

"You found a good one, Papyrus," Undyne shouts, while conjuring a spinning, contracting rosette of spears. "I'm actually impressed."

During the breathing room between one volley and the next, Dave Strider rummages in his sylladex and withdraws... something, keeping the object palmed in his hand for the right moment. "One more round?"

Undyne grins, with all her teeth. "Got something up your sleeve?"

Dave doesn't reply until the spears are in the air; he flash-steps once, twice, thrice, zigzagging towards Undyne, until he spots an opening - and wraps his old pointy anime shades around Undyne's face.

"What the hell?" Undyne stops mid-attack. She reaches a hand to her face. Grasps the shades. Pulls them off her face and examines them.

Dave's standing a ways away, with his hands in his pockets. "I wasn't using 'em. Figured you'd get more out of them than I did. I like Ben Stiller's shades better anyway."

"Yes!" says Undyne. "I make the best Kamina. Alphys said she'd make me a costume. I'll have to tell her a human gave me the glasses for it!"

"So," says Dave, leaning on his sword. "That your house? The one that looks like your face?"

"Of course! I've forgotten my manners." Undyne grins cheekily as she wrenches open her front door, and points into the kitchen. "There are cinnamon buns in the fridge, if you want any. Papyrus and I will spar for a bit before coming in."

Undyne's refrigerator, thankfully, is not full of spears. However, it seems that monsters don't understand what the difference is between refrigerators and warming cabinets. Dave Strider uses his shirt to grab a few hot cinnamon buns, arranges them on a clean-looking plate he saw on the counter, and brings the tray outside.

He is treated to the sight of Papyrus arranging bones methodically but rapidly in the air, waving his hands like a conductor, silhouetted by the sunset behind him. "Cool... dude," Dave reads, as the bones go flying by and Undyne has to backflip to avoid them.

Then Undyne's throwing spears high into the air, watching them arc down, and Papyrus - crouching and holding a bone staff in both his hands - bats them out of the air with practiced speed.

"Got it this time!" shouted Papyrus, when the last few were dispatched. "I am improving at predicting that attack!"

"That you are," says Undyne, distractedly; she's looking at Dave. "Human, I told you to help yourself, not to be our waiter!"

Dave Strider stops in the middle of a bite. "You were busy."

Undyne looks like she's going to object, but then lights up. "We can still fix this 'guest' thing! Let's get inside and pretend that I put them on the table myself."

And so they do.

\----

The couch at Papyrus' place has seen better days, but Dave Strider's slept on worse. The blanket is a knitted monstrosity, a riot of colored squares seemingly randomly sewn together. Despite appearances, however, it's warm enough, and Rose has taught him enough about knitting that he knows that there's months of love and labor knitted into that blanket. Apparently it was made by the skeletons' human friend, Frisk, the one he's barely seen. He's supposed to meet them tomorrow, apparently, when they have a day off from school.

When the skeletons have put themselves into their rooms to sleep, he finally cracks open the rarely-used bathroom. He takes a shower. He brushes his teeth. He leaves the bathroom after his ablutions, fully intending to stretch out on the couch and sleep, but then the front door opens.

It's probably Sans, he thinks - Papyrus has told him about Sans' strange habits - but then he actually looks, and it's a kid. Not more than thirteen. And they've seen him. "Shit. Um..." Dave can't close the bathroom door and pretend he isn't there. May as well play it cool. "You the housesitter or something?"

The kid shrinks in on themselves, stopping short in the doorway. They're wearing slippers and a patched, ratty, too-small striped shirt. "I, uh. I needed... to talk to someone."

"Well, come in," says Dave Strider. "And unless you want me to tell the skeleton brothers that a mysterious stranger has appeared at their door to summon them out of their dire slumber, you might want to tell me your name."

"Frisk," they say, stepping across the threshold. Dave expects the kid to proceed up to the bedroom of one or the other skeleton. But they're making a beeline towards the couch and wrapping themselves up in the knitted blanket and just sitting there. Dave would've left it at that, but he's been hoping to sleep on that couch and now there's a child in the way.

So Dave sits next to them. "Which one of them do you want to talk to?"

"I..." Frisk's eyes are wide and staring, and the kid looks like they'd shatter if they said another word.

Shit. Rose would know how to deal with this. How did Rose deal with this? Right. Dave finds a banged-up kettle on the kitchen stove and puts some water on to boil, then looks in the cabinets. There's no tea, but there's a half-empty box of hot chocolate packets. A bit of a scour and he finds a couple of mugs, too.

Then there's nothing to do but stand there and wait for the water to heat up. Dave Strider sneaks a glance over at the kid; they're still staring at him warily.

Finally the water boils. Dave prepares the hot chocolate from the packets and brings the two mugs over to the coffee table. He sets one down in front of the kid. When they make no move towards it, Dave tries to encourage them: "I wouldn't make two mugs just for myself. Drink up."

A shaky hand extends out of the blankets, grasping the handle of the mug. Frisk blows across the top of the drink to cool it, and then takes the tiniest of sips, and puts the mug down.

Dave starts talking, more to keep himself awake than anything. "I used to have a Bro," he says. "He didn't really understand how children worked. He used to put swords in the fridge and leave pornography just lying around. I mean, I thought I was supposed to thank him for 'preparing' me for playing Sburb, but."

Frisk is staring at him.

So he keeps talking. "That's not how it works, is it? I think you know that just as well as I do."

Frisk nods, once, and turns their face away. "I keep having these dreams. Like everyone died, except then I wake up and they're still there."

"Like... things that you imagine might've happened, or... _oh_." Dave Strider puts his hot chocolate down. "Different timelines."

"You... know about timelines?"

"'Know' isn't quite the right word for it. I wasn't a Seer. But yes. I know they're not just theoretical."

Frisk swirls their hot chocolate around in the mug a little, watching the steam rise from it. "Sometimes," they say, in a choked-up whisper, "I'm the one... I'm the one who..."

And then the kid's sobbing for real. Dave Strider doesn't know where the tissues are, but there's a roll of toilet paper in the bathroom, so he flashsteps over to get it and then puts it down near the kid's drink. They reach out, wind off some of the toilet paper, and cover their face.

There's the sound of a door opening, and then Sans is sitting on the other side of Frisk, on the couch, with an arm around the kid's shoulders, making quiet noises.

Suddenly Dave feels like he shouldn't be here for this. "I'll leave you two to your... uh..."

Dave isn't really sure where he's going when he stands up - maybe the bathroom? He can't actually sleep there but at least it'll put a door between him and the pair - only Frisk bursts out with a "No, stay!" and Dave sits back down.

Sans shoots Dave a questioning look over Frisk's hunched shoulders. Dave shrugs. "I, uh. I told them I knew about timelines, and then they..." He indicates the lump of kid. "I figured I'd leave you to do the moirail thing but apparently they don't want me to leave."

Sans sounds out the word Dave just used. "Mwahrail... you're into troll media?"

"I used to live with a bunch of them," Dave says. "I learned quickly."

"Right." Sans is rubbing the kid's back now. "And... what familiarity do you have with timelines, exactly?"

"Uh." This world is stranger than the Earth he came from, so while saying he's from a video game earns him some odd looks, people don't usually think he's crazy. Usually. But he's talking to a monster, and he has no idea what the monsters think is normal. "I... was in a video game that turned out to be real. I had time travel powers. Didn't like using them, though. Ensuring continuity is a pain in the ass."

"I can imagine," observes Sans. Dave notes thankfully that Sans hasn't batted an eyelid at this story. Not that the skeleton has any eyelids to bat in the first place. "I... used to work on that kind of thing, studying the higher dimensions. We had a program. Then there was an accident, and... after that, we didn't have a program."

"And... what does Frisk have to do with this?"

"You could just _ask_ me, you know," grumbles the kidlump.

Dave addresses them, then. "Frisk, what do you have to do with this?"

"When I was... when I was in the Underground. I had the ability to go back and undo things, if I was really determined. Like if I died, I could go back and try again." Frisk's rushing over the words, as if they have to get it out all at once before they start crying again. "And I had the ability to... reset the whole timeline. Put everyone back to the start. But I wouldn't remember, if I reset. So I don't know if I did it or not. But I dream of things that didn't happen, a lot, so Sans thinks I've probably done it at least few times before."

"So, like savepoints and restarting of a video game." 

Frisk nods.

"And you dream of... the doomed timelines? The ones that almost came to pass, but didn't?"

"I... I don't know if they actually happened or not, though." Frisk drinks from their hot chocolate. 

"Whether they 'actually happened' depends on your perspective, though. We're in this timeline. I don't know if this universe prunes the extra timelines like Paradox Space did. But I can't... I don't want to live with the notion that somewhere, there's still a dead timeline where an evil puppetcrow rules over the remnants of my dead Sburb session. So I don't."

"...evil puppetcrow?"

"Long story."

"It just... feels so _real_ , though, that... sometimes I'm the one holding the knife..."

"I know," says Sans, quietly. "I know."

"For what it's worth," Dave says, "I'm sorry."

They sit in silence for some time, Frisk curled up in Sans' lap.

At some point Dave glances over and finds the other two both asleep. So much for retrieving his blanket. At least the kid seems better now. As for Sans... well, he'll have to put Sans in contact with some of the others. Roxy's been doing some weird higher-dimensional work herself, and Dave has a hunch that Rose will be interested, even if he doesn't know quite why.

But all that can wait for tomorrow. Meanwhile, Dave Strider scoots over to the other arm of the couch, pulls a jacket over himself, and goes to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Update 10/30/16: I'm not sure if I'm ever going to write a sequel to this, but I figured I'd jot down some notes on what it might look like if it did exist.
> 
> <http://shutthedord.tumblr.com/post/152519649553/further-thoughts-on-my-undertalehomestuck>


End file.
